The Jinxability Blog

I'm a very disappointed citizen of the Indian Union. What liberty does a citizen have when his very integrity is taken for a ride? What is the purpose of me voting for a new Government, or a new representative if they can't protect my freedom?

It happened in December. Suddenly, I couldn't sleep. I was an insomniac. 


Such a chronic one that it started scaring my friends. Some asked me to count sheep, others asked me see a doctor. One advised me to get drunk and pass out. 


The last one, actually, was the only plan that worked for me. 


I blamed it on my job. The hours. The lack of hours. The timings. The lack of timing, rather. 




It went on for three months. The constant tiredness. Nodding off in the bus, five minutes before the stop where I would have to get down. Then the long and painful nights, some of whom were used for constructive purposes; but mostly whittled away wondering what was wrong with me and how to fix it. 


Then suddenly, towards the end of April, it all went back to normal. Eight hours a day. And everyday at that. 


The results: Fell behind on my reading, fell behind on my to-watch list, couldn't run in the mornings anymore, got increasingly more bored in office, started waking up early, started getting to office early, bus rides became longer, train rides became insufferable, sounds were clearer and more deafening etc etc. 


Today. I haven't slept yet. 

The results: Went for a walk, started reading again (Girl with the Dragon Tattoo), sat up and thought about writing about this, sat up and wrote about this, made myself breakfast, read the paper, didn't count sheep, finished watching a series that I had wanted to watch. Oh I don't know. 




If those sheep and doctors had done any permanent damage to me, I wouldn't be writing this. 


I can complain I guess. And I probably will also. But have to admit, being an insomniac is probably one of the best things that can happen to somebody. Imagine all the extra hours you get!


(Image courtesy: http://bioweb.uwlax.edu)

I'm no scientist.. Yes, there was a time when I thought I was that smart. But my maths teacher and those repeated exams laid that theory to rest.. 

I don't understand Hollywood. All those movies with time machines in them, and nobody could manage to do something interesting with them.


Michael J. Fox made out with his Mom, Guy Pearce tried to bring his wife back from the dead, John Cusack and co. took another chance at their miserable childhood, Ben Affleck bought himself a lottery ticket, oh the list is endless AND frustrating.




For all that intellectual depth and Save-The-World nonsense that they so flamboyantly showed in other movies, they did not do one single thing worth noting.. But hey, can't blame them. Poor bastards were probably caught unprepared.


But not me. No sir! I shall endeavour to put together a Time-Machine To-Do list, just in case I happen to come across/use/fall-into/get-sucked-into one...


And it shall follow:


1. Tell Jesus what his priests are upto 2000 years later..
2. Tell Buddha that there are two branches of Buddhism these days..
3. Find out if any of that shit in the Mahabharatha is actually true..
4. Go to 1938 and tell Adolf Hitler how the war will end..
5. Go meet Anne Frank..
6. Stay in Harappa for two months and learn the local language...
7. See Egypt under Cleopatra... (Find out how they managed to build them pyramids also..)
8. Watch how Alexander managed to talk to the Indians..
9. Go see a mammoth / T-Rex...
10. Witness Berlin Wall destruction...
11. Tell them Indian kings what the British will be up to the moment they set up base.. (Not that it'd make too much of a difference!)


I'm pretty sure there were more. Periodical writer's block, what can I say! To be updated as and when inspiration strikes.. 


(Image courtesy: Vistawallpaper.org)

I have two kinds of days. No matter how much I try, it is always either one or the other. 
It is either an On-Day, or it is an Off-Day




4:00 a.m.
What else do I do now? C'mon think of something. Get off your ass! Jeez!
Why am I even up at this time?


9:00 a.m.
Oh I'm up early. Have to get things done. 
I hate you sunlight. Fish you God!


11:30 a.m.
This and that and that is done. I feel happy about myself. 
*Drools* Say what? 


1.00 p.m.
Now I will have lunch!
I should probably brush my teeth. 


3:00 p.m.
Get on train, go for work. Awesome!
I should probably get out of bed now. #fml! 




5:00 p.m.
Work is awesome! They'll probably promote me if I work this hard!
What's the point? I'll die an old man doing the same job. Why God, why?


9:00 p.m.
I belong here don't I? I could work like this without taking an off for days at end. 
I need a vacation. I need a camera. I need a car. When is the pay-day again?


10:30 p.m.
Time to leave already? But, but, there is nothing to do at home!
Gawd! I thought this would never end. Home sweet home. Well not quite, but atleast it's quiet. 


11:30 p.m. 
This movie, that movie. Book. This one, that one. I'm hungry. What restaurant will be open now? 
What movie have I seen, does not require me to think, and is fun? Damn, I'm hungry. 


2:00 a.m.
I should go to sleep shouldn't I? Will wake up early and have another awesome day tomorrow. 
What's the point. No sunlight. Awesome time to be up. Yayy!


4:00 a.m. 
What's the point? Why am I even up at this time?
Alright enough! Get up off your ass NOW!


(Image Courtesy: antonylowe.wordpress.com)

And then, there are those days. Days without one word being written!

Or weeks. Or months. 

Steps to overcoming the dreaded disease that all Bloggers face one time or the other: 

Step 1: Denying Denial

Tell yourself that you ARE actually blocked and can't write even a few scant words. 

Stop telling yourself that you're not writing because 

a) There is not a good enough topic; 

b) You don't have time; 

c) The keyboard isn't good enough. 

Step 2: Think of an Action Plan

Come to the realisation that all awesome things happen because of action plans. Figure out how you might possible go about getting around the block. 

OR. If you're NOT an anal freak, skip to step 3. 

Step 3: Get off your Ass

Come to the realisation that your endless procrastination skills are not constructive. To anything. 

Give yourself a date. A deadline. Try and figure out a topic. Or don't. Just decide to go with the flow. 

Step 4: Fight the fear

Refrain from asking yourself questions such as:

- But what if it isn't interesting enough?

- What will all my thousand readers thinnk?

- What if nobody comments?

Step 5: Truth Time

Tell yourself the truth that you keep buried deep, deep inside:

- Your posts are never interesting.

- You don't have a thousand readers. In fact, you might not have more than two. 

- Nobody usually comments anyhow. Besides you, yourself. 

Step 6: Final realisation

Come to the painful but beautiful conclusion that you primarily write for yourself. So who gives a shit anyhow? 

Step 7: D-Day

After a further procrastination of a few days, and just type what comes to mind.

Hit 'Publish' and keep your fingers crossed for all the critical acclaim, tons of comments and showers of love from subscribers. 

(Image Courtesy: storesonlinepro.com)

This post had been in the making for quite some time. First lack of time, then lack of sleep, and then lack of a laptop put me off from writing it.

Until I was heartbroken to see that somebody else had already written on it. My good friend Jonva, over at These Days, wrote this post to commemorate the Independence Day. Oddly enough, staunch and proud Indian I was, I couldn't but agree with what he was saying.

First off, this is the first Independence Day that I've seen quite a few of my friends actually saying that they did not quite enjoy celebrating it all that much. Possibilities:
1. I made a lot of friends this year.
2. I made a few friends this year, but they were all 'rebels'.
3. Independence Day fell on a Sunday this year; hence people actually started thinking about it, rather than thank it for a merciful holiday.

Whatever the case maybe, they are right. We're all pseudo-patriots. We take pride in our country because everybody else does. Not because we understand, give two-hoots about, or because we know what it stands for.

Our national pride and sentiment are restricted to the days when our nation comes to the rescue in the form of a national holiday. Now that is the case with most of us. I'm not quite sure where to put the army-men, freedom fighters and their kind. They seem to be fighting for the country, with the staunch belief that they're doing some good.

Though, I wonder, won't a soldier in Pakistan think the same thing? Will he, for instance, wake up one day and say: "Oh damn, Musharraf is such a dick!" I suppose not. What makes him better or worse than one of our own soldiers?

Our forefathers. And their brave actions that gave us freedom from the fat and boring English (of course, they did not have the EPL then). Why? Why did we need it so bad? What good did they think they were doing?


Fact of the matter is, we need those army-men and politicians. Though I agree with every word Jonva said in his post, I don't think he sees the point.

You see, in an ideal world, there are no hypocrites. In an ideal world, there are no politicians. No hunger, no poverty. No richer man. And no poorer man. In an ideal world, there is no money. There are no differences.

Unfortunately, we don't live in the ideal world. We probably never will. I keep thinking it will take a nuclear war for the ideal world to emerge. Still might not at the same time. We're too damaged to think as one now.

There is no answer. Just. Hope.

(Image Courtesy: human3rror.com)

Being Indian will definitely help one understand why language is such a fucked up thing. In North India at least, people get to speak Hindi in a larger area. Down here though, a bit west and it's Malayalam, a bit north and it's Kannada, a bit to this side is Telugu and a bit to that side is Tamil. 

What have the true stories of Spiderman, Batman, Superman and Wonderwoman taught us? 
That superheroes dress so gay? Yes, you're right. But besides that, they've also taught us that one man/woman CAN make a difference, and so totally kick ass at it. (which reminds me, MUST check out this movie).


Now, I don't have radioactive spiders, Kryptonite or power-hungry freaks in my life. Oh wait, I do have power-hungry freaks in my life, but they're not as irritating as warrants an ass-kicking. 


What though is irritating me most these days is riding in Chennai. Chennai has a different set of riding/driving etiquette(or lacks it rather!) that just gets on my nerves. Hence I figured someone should do something about it. 


Point number 1:
In Cochin, where I come from, if you're stranded somewhere with no bus, no auto fare and no friends to pick you up, what do you do? You stick your hand out and ask someone for a ride. And you get one too, guaranteed! 



In Chennai though, NEVER have I seen anybody offering a hitchhiker a ride. Not that nobody asks for it. People just don't stop. And may I add, it's very rude to the hitchhiker if you blow by and pretend that you did not see anything. I have had it done to me before on countless times, trust me. 


Point number 2:
Why can't these Coco Cola (another word for which is __) sucking bastards NEVER use their dim lights? You perfect-eyesight-fucks might not realize it, but especially people with glasses are effectively rendered blind when you shine your high-ass-beam at their eyeballs. 
Combined damage as a result of your high beams is me having to replace my bike's shocks after falling into too many holes. 


The Campaign
They say one man can't make a difference, huh? So be it. They were probably right, but I'm still gonna try my hand at reforming these manner-less pigs of drivers. 


Point number 1 shall be addressed by giving rides to anybody who asks for it, anywhere anytime. As of now, I don't intend to force anybody else to give rides, but hopefully the example will suffice. If you see a 6foot4 guy on a Midnight Blue/Skyblue Splendor with Kerala plates, and if you need a ride, don't hesitate to stick your hand out! :D


Point number 2 shall be addressed by a combination of hand-signals and shouting. On a dark night (or not), if you see a tall rider approaching from the opposite side, and making hand gestures (opening and closing palm) combined with a fair bit of shouting, which, even though he whooshed by, sounded a lot like "Fyakyoomadafakkaaa..", then, he was not commenting on  your wife's boobs (which may or may not be good), he was just asking you to switch to your dim lights once in a while. 

This is as much a poll as it is a post. I have a question to ask. How many of you have been happy with the weather for a period longer than, say a week? Or a month?

I don't know if it's exclusively a Chennai phenomenon or not. But it seems that I'm incapable of being happy about the weather for more than two days at most.

After a grueling summer, which included endless traffic at noon and buckets full of sweat, the words on everybody's lips ranged from 'respite' to 'rain' to 'mercy' to 'Sambar'. (Yes, that last word has nothing to do with weather. But this is Chennai you know! We love our Sambar!)


I was no different. I wanted to ride through Anna Salai at noon and not feel sorry about it. I wanted to drink less than 10 gallons of water everyday. I wanted to not dread power cuts and not depend on ACs (which I don't own).

And then it finally rained in Chennai on Sunday. I was happy. I got drenched a bit. Everybody was smiling. It was almost like it was wine, not water that was falling from the Sky.

Yet.

Today it rained again. I'm no longer happy.

Because it means:
1. Now I've to make my way through endless roads streaked with puddles, of which some are capable of drowning a full grown man.

2. Riding is no longer that much fun. It's cold. You've to pull on raincoats (Which I haven't bought yet). And it's not fun to get drenched and then go freeze your ass off in the office AC.

3. You don't feel like getting out of bed anymore. I don't know if this is a good thing or a bad thing, but considering this is only my second week at a new job, I'm thinking it's a bad thing.

Anyhow, I suppose this is just a passing shower. Soon, November shall come. (sigh)

(Images Courtesy: Cj.Ibnlive.com.in, chennaiplus.net)

I saw a monkey today. I smirked and thought to myself: "To think we all came from THIS!" (Theists, don't worry. I'm sure God still loves you loads. He'll send down goodie packs very soon)

But then I was thinking. Life would have been so much easier if I had been a damn monkey.

They don't have to write exams. They don't have to deal with identities. They don't get married. Hell, they can sleep around with anyone they want to. There's no poor monkey and rich monkey. There are no monkeys that go to war in Iraq. Or Afghanistan. As far as I know, there are none that blow themselves up to prove a point.

There are no Monkeys that preach bullshit to others and has a huge following. There are no Monkey Gods. There are no Monkey temples. Monkeys don't have to listen to Pop Music. Or Britney Spears. Or Justin Whatever-that-Kid-is.

In Monkey life, everything is fair.

Yes, I know what you're going to say. You're going to say, if you like it so much, then why don't you go live in the damn forest. Why are you enjoying the 'comforts' of life and still complaining?

Well, if I didn't know there were any comforts, would I miss them?

They say that the greatest thing that happened in evolution, was the evolution of the human brain. A brain with ultimate capacity to do wonderful things.

And here we are, quite a few billion of us. Our lives are too complicated. Too pointless. And we've destroyed, or in the process of destroying, everything around us.

But it seems that the Universe will win again. There should always be a balance right. Calamities occur and ALWAYS balances out the equation if there ever is a surge.

Our own brain is our biggest calamity. So bring it on. Bring on the pollution, the nuclear bombs, the international disputes, borders, heavy artillery and more teen pop music.

We will be balanced soon.

PS: Sorry for this post. Just one of those days when you feel like this. I should be back to normal in about 24 hours.

(Image Courtesy: potstuck.com)

What's about being in a deprived group of people? The deprivation brings you closer together I suppose. That was my experience from my 2 years at St. Mary's Poojapura. It was to prove right again.

There were people I didn't like. People I couldn't see eye to eye with (both literally and figuratively) But all that pales in comparison when you remember the nights of fun and alcohol on the terrace.

My roomies, at first, did not seem like very cool people. One looked like a terrorist on the loose, and another looked like he had an obsession with carrying suitcases.

We were the first one to arrive at the Villa. We kept thinking to ourselves that we'd suffer a lot here.

Time was to prove us right. Illness, Hunger, Rain, Wading through muck among other things. It seemed at one point that the folks at the hostel would do their course requirement Covering Deprivation trip by visiting the Villa. But we managed to pull through.

There are heroes of the Villa that I need to talk about. That'll come later.

For now, it's suffice to say that, in life, there are people around, who'll help you pull through every passing day, no matter how hard it gets.

This post is dedicated to the Vociferous Villans. Cheers guys :D

(Image Courtesy: apfn.org)

(Based on Actual events)
No, wait.
(These ARE Actual events)

12:00 am : HAVE to sleep early tonight.. At least tonight. Please God please.

3:00 am: Knock on the door.
"You up?"
"Yeah."
"Great, see you at 4."

4:00 am: At the doorsteps of the first coffee shop to open in Chennai.
Ok, fine, Adayar maybe. But still, first one to open in our vicinity.
"Anna, unda round round i take 4 - unda he take 3, i... "
"Son, I know Malayalam. Don't desecrate Tamil like this please."
"Er, he he.. Ok, sure.. Guys what'd you take?"

5:00 am: Why can't I sleep? Why o why.
It's not like I had coffee or anything.
Oh wait, I did have coffee. (sigh)


NEVER AGAIN! NEVER WILL I HAVE COFFEE AT 4 IN THE MORNING!

07:00 am: Sleep

09:30: Roomie is off to college.
"You dick, class starts at 10. Get your ass out of bed!"
Get up, run into bathroom, run out of bathroom, run out of house, do 20 minute walk in 10 minutes, still arrive too late for breakfast and go straight to class.

10:30 am: Attending lecture. Why did I come? Why? I coulda slept better on my own bed. These damn chairs are half my size.

11:15 am: Quick smoke, quick coffee, back to sleepy oblivion that promises no sleep.

12:59 pm: I hear people clapping. What did I win. As I stand center stage, people come to me and clap me on my back. I'm exhilarated. Wait, stop patting my back so hard, it's starting to hurt.
I turn around.

Must be the Oscars, Tom Cruise is standing there. And he says:
"Dude, wake the fuck up, lecture is over. I have to go to lunch. Move out of my way!"
(sigh) Back to the real world.

1:30 pm: Conversations around me at the table: "How do these canteen people take ordinary food and turn it into bland food?" "I hate these bastards." "We should nuke this place." Headache.

Ugggh.. Bad bad food. Please don't tell me that I'll have to throw this up later!

2:00 pm: Reporting class. "Jithin, where are you on your two stories?"
"I'm making good progress, sir. I got the number for the political leader for that love jihad story and checking out that education fair today evening."
"Good job."
(Gulp. I'm so screwed.)

5:00 pm: Metro station. "Where do I get down if I want to go to Royapettah?"
"Saar, you gyet daun at Trriplikyein."
"Alright thanks."

5:45 pm: Where is this triplicane place? Damn! Will ask fellow passengers.
"Sir, where is Triplicane?"
"Yai, Nva Yinglish. Gva Yewei!"
Er, ok. "Ma'am, Triplicane."
"No stop CaLLED Triplicane beta, the stop were you had to get down was Tiru-bleh-bleh-veli. That was half an hour ago. How funny. Ha ha ha"
Errrr.. Hag! Witch!

6:15 pm: Get down at some forsaken stop. Get on bus to Royapettah.

6:45 pm: Somewhere in Royapettah.
To Shopkeeper: "Anna, where is Hotel Deccan Plaza?"
"Very near. Ten minutes walk. This road."

7:15 pm: Ten minute walk turned out to be half an hour walk.
In front of hotel Deccan Plaza. Is that puke coming up? Yes, it is. Find a tree. Puke under it.

7:20 pm: I don't feel so good. Should I go back?
Disembodied voice from sky says: "A journalist has to work no matter what.. Oooo aaaaahh."
(sigh) Fine!

8:00 pm: Interviews done. On bus back home. Damn! Had to call that politician.
Phone rings.
"Sir, I called earlier today, three times."
"Ah yes, that journo student guy. Hold on.
After five minutes, "Yeah, I'm still busy, call me after one hour."

8:55 pm: Back home.

09:00 pm: Call again. Phone rings.
"Oh, it's you again. Listen, I'm too busy to talk to you. Why don't you talk to some low level guy. Call my assistant, he'll give you some shit and up-coming youngie's number."
"Sir, but.."
Click.

10:00 pm: Talking to "some shit and up coming youngie".
"Yai Fyeel Strangly Yebaut Dees. Pyarpasful, Kaaanspiraashi!"
"Yes, sir, point taken. But I did not ask you anything about Tamil Nadu politics. I wanted to know about your reaction to the.."
"Ah Yeais, Dyat Tvoo, Pyarpasful, Kaaanspiraashi."
Yes sir.

10:15 pm: Damn, forgot dinner. Run out, buy Maggi, come back eat.

11:00 pm: Writing report. I have to sleep early today.

12:00 am: It woulda been so much cooler if Gerard Butler had showed up in my dream. Why did Tom Cruise come. Oh fuck, the report. The report. Yeah, the report.

12:01 am: I must, MUST, sleep early today. At least today. Let's get the hell done with this report. Inspiration, strike me please.

04:00 am: Anna, 1 coffee please. (sigh) And make it extra strong.